i’m unsure if i feel more im poverished, povero in timesof summer or winter, whetherof heat adhering, humidlyhewed, to the skin, (s)weltering—or of hope stole like breath, snowilyfleeting—condensation of some part soma and some some part suppose(d) have&lack : the chiaroscuro of being Shine Ballard, otiose&outré, currently creates and resides on this plane(t). You canContinue reading “famine”


All I can think about‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎Really‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Are girders, now Who is‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ Getting viscous‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎ ‎‏‏‎Continue reading “ALIEN RESURRECTION (1997)”

Making Friends with Your Five-Year-Old Self: A Crash Course

First off, it’s important to meet him in a familiar place. Your grandparents’ backyard, say. Right beside the balding patch of grass where the basketball goal is set up, where the long, cracked-concrete, skinned-knee driveway ends and that forever backyard begins. When you tell him who you are, it’s a toss-up as to whether he’llContinue reading “Making Friends with Your Five-Year-Old Self: A Crash Course”

A Science Fiction Story

There are two basic storiesin science fiction concerningEarth-based inter-stellarexploration. The first (1) beingpeople from Earthleavingand meeting aliencivilizationselsewhere in the galaxy/universe/multiverse.In this story,people flee Earth,often due to some catastrophe(either one that has occurredor one impending)(either one caused by environmental collapseor the ravages of war),in a feeble attemptto save the fateof human-kind.In this exodus story,humans occasionally traveltoContinue reading “A Science Fiction Story”


he & i, samenamed, we countedthose stitches, together. oddly,they were more disturbingthan that greystiffeningthingpresented, pajamaedas it was. we had not cried until that mathymoment—i’ve despisedarithmetic since. he cried to his mother, i to mine,of such laxity, the lack ofdecorum—they consoled us, or they didn’t.i cannot remember. i swore to never again lingerover a thing thatContinue reading “prologue”

To the former bird by Big Bear Lake

they plucked off every once of meat. leftyour beak, feathers, feet lone and frore scraped beside the lake’s dank shore. i’m not sure what your story was. if i knew i’d tell it. even if you passed your days circuitingstraightforward same, i’d beatify your mundane down mountain, over bourbon. Oakley Ayden (she/her) is an autistic,Continue reading “To the former bird by Big Bear Lake”